Goodness Has Nothing to Do With It
by Pocky of NyaNyaLand
Summary: This is a collection of oneshots that have Damien Wayne screwing the life out of Dick Grayson. Rating for sex, sluttiness, crossdressing, noncon, dubcon, and shota. Maybe all at once. Be warned.
1. He Who Hesitates

**Title: **Goodness Had Nothing to Do With It

**Chapter Summary: **Damien hates it when Dick trains.

**A/N: **This is dedicated to AmberSpirit, who, along with TheAlchemist'sDaughter, writes the most fantastic Batman fanfic known to man. It's titled the _Boy In the Manor_ and it's freaking awesome. Dick has always been a favorite of mine, and I like Damien. He's spoiled, violent, and 20 pounds of adorable in a five pound bag.

I have spent weeks destroying plotline after plotline to figure what I was going to do for this pairing. I decided to watch a few of my favorite movies for inspiration and found Mae West. I love her. She's one of my idols.

**Warnings: **Slashy Thoughts. Minor (I don't know how old I'm making Damien but he sure as hell is not 18). Masturbation. Non-Con (sort of).

**Chapter Title: **He who hesitates is a damned fool.

* * *

><p>While Damien Wayne hated to face his mistakes, he always knew that his worst one was studying Dick Grayson.<p>

Contrary to what many people believed, Damien did not always dive head first into a dangerous situation. He actually put a lot of effort into knowing his enemies. As far as Damien was concern, Dick Grayson, the original Robin, the former Nightwing, and the current Batman, was his enemy. He took his father's place without any consideration to Damien's birthright, and had the nerve to treat him, someone who learned how to break a man's collarbone before he could walk, as a child. It was insulting, patronizing, and downright degrading. Damien was sure that the minute he caught his predecessor off guard, he would finally take what was rightfully his.

Therefore, Damien needed a plan. He studied the older man's history, his heritage, the short life he lived before becoming the first boy wonder. Damien remembered sneering at the lack of information his research produced. How was learning that his arch nemesis was a circus-bred Gypsy with abnormal catlike flexibility going to help him?

Answer?

It didn't.

In fact, it made matters worse. Damien began to pay special attention to the adult male, hoping to catch a weakness he could exploit. The only things he discovered were the disadvantages of puberty.

During training, Damien was forced to suffer the through hours of sublime torture. No matter what he did, the poor boy could simply not look away. Dick always started with his stretches, twisting in ways that would have made strippers jealous. The shorts Dick always donned in the summer because of the heat (despite the air condition that was installed) clung to him like a second skin. Sweat would trickle down his body like a god and Damien would constantly have to fight the urge not to lap it up like a hungry housecat.

What was worst was when Dick tried to have some fun during his hours in the gym. This exasperated Damien to no end. The training room should be for _training_, not prostituting himself on the gymnastics rings. The routine workout before their spars was always treacherous.

Damien had to fight every teen pubescent instinct not to groan and writhe at the erotic display his guardian projected. The man was a living wet dream when he bent elegantly on the balance beam, displaying his clenching ass to whoever walked in. Hell, Damien should just get a camera and post it off to the entire world. The whore would probably enjoy the attention, Damien concluded, frustrated at the thought.

"I'll be done in half an hour, Damien. Why don't you start stretching? Or you could even join me? " Dick suggested innocently.

Yeah, I like to join you, Damien thought maliciously. I'd like to join my dick with your-

"Damien?"

Damien flushed at his train of thoughts. Dick looked a bit concern and began to walk towards him, acknowledging the heavy blush accentuating his charge's cheeks. Was he sick? He would not be surprise if Damien was ill. His boy wonder was hardly the epitome of perfect health. While Damien kept his young body fit for crime fighting perfection, he only did the bare minimum when it concerned other issues.

So much like Bruce, Dick mused sadly.

Damien glared fiercely. "I'm fine. You get back to doing your little handstands."

Dick opened his mouth to say something but then closed it again. Nope, he seemed to be in perfect health. It must have been a teenage thing.

Half an hour past and Dick was almost finished by now. Damien scoffed angrily. Finally, the older male was done teasing him. He_ had_ to have known how provocative his movements were. He had to know the images produce by his arching back, how it imitated him being bent over like a whore, taking some man's cock like a pro. He had to have known the ideas that erupted from hearing his groans, wondering how loud he was in bed.

He was a fucking tease, and Damien did not know how much more he could take.

"Do you mind if I take a shower before our spar?"

Dick's voice snapped him out of his thoughts again. He was about to make a bratty comment. Claiming that it was completely irresponsible of him to make him wait so long, or that he was going to sweat anyways when they fought, before he noticed his own predicament.

He was hard. He was hard and he needed release.

Dick far away enough that the equipment could hide his view of Damien's little problem. He had never been more grateful of his tendency to stay far away from Dick during their training sessions than he was now.

He muttered a rough 'whatever' which Dick grinned obliviously at. Tramp, Damien thought with a heavy blush, even his smiles were sexy.

Once out of sight, Damien leaned against the corner of the wall, desperate to take care of his problem. He frantically stuck his hand down his pants, cursing himself for the crude gesture. It was completely unfair how Dick made him feel this way. He really should just go into the locker room and teach the man a lesson on his slutty behavior.

Damien cringed when the erotic picture was drawn in his mind. His hand tightened around his cock and he began jerking it wildly. He imagined himself marching into the showers, where Dick currently resided. Dick, oblivious to Damien's advances, stripped out of his clothes like a professional, revealing his muscular, but lithe body.

The hot water poured out of the shower, relaxing Dick's muscles but also lowering his defenses. Damien intelligently used the steam to cover up his tracks and make his movements undetectable. When Dick's guard was completely down, Damien could envision himself sneaking behind the adult and forcing him against the wall roughly.

"Damien, w-what are you doing?" Imaginary Dick questioned, terror clouding his voice.

"Teaching you a lesson," Damien smirked. He could see Dick's eyes widen at the statement, while his whole body reacted in arousal and fear. Dick tried to push him off, but the death grip Damien on him was too strong to break free. His face was rammed against the marble walls as Damien's hands moved lower to stroke him.

"No…" Dick pleaded, obviously loathing himself for his shameful reaction.

"Ha, I always knew you were a slut, Grayson. What's the matter? Do you like the idea of getting raped by a _kid_?" Damien mocked. "I bet you want my cock to split you open. You want me fucking your tight hole. You probably dream of going down on me and drinking up my cum over and over again."

Dick whimpered like a bitch, continuously begging him to stop. Instead of complying, Damien would pull him close and upward, so that their bodies pressed against each other with no means of escape. He expertly placed his cock between Dick's legs and against his butt. Grinding their hips together, Dick would subconsciously rub against him, proving Damien's point.

"Slut," Damien breathed into Dick's ear.

Damien felt close witnessing the image before him. Dick's knees hit the floor, as his hands were held together by Damien's strength. He was fully erect, with pre-cum leaking like a faucet. His cute, pink asshole was wet from his previous grinding, and Damien could smirk at the agonized expression. Using his free hand to wring out more liquid from Dick, Damien allowed his hand to be completely coated with Dick's juices.

"S-stop! Damien! Please don't do this!"

Damien used his soaked hand to penetrate Dick's hole and wet his own cock for the ride. The ring of muscle clenched at the intrusion, which caused Dick to utter a small cry, muffled only by the sound of the running water. Stretched and dripping wet, Damien placed the tip of his young cock at Dick's entrance. Without warning, the head entered Dick's body before pushing further, relishing in the tight heat.

He could feel Dick's body trying to accommodate his member. As Damien pushed all the way in, Dick came shamefully over his own body, with thick spurts of come adorning his body. It did not matter to Damien, though he was a bit disappointed Dick came without his approval. He had to correct that next time. Still, judging by his reaction, Dick had no problems getting hard again. By now, his protests diminished and he appeared resigned to his fate. Dick felt Damien's balls press against his ass, and would start pushing himself further on his cock.

"H-harder! Damien! Please!"

Damien smirked in triumph. "Knew you couldn't help yourself."

Nevertheless, Damien complied with the request. He wasn't a complete bastard. Damien pulled back, before slamming his cock into Dick. This elicited nothing but wanton moans from Dick, who desired nothing more than release. Damien started to fuck him in long, hard thrusts, brutal and quick. Soon, Damien was close, and before he knew it, he was coming into Dick Grayson.

With one final jerk, spurts of cum came out of his cock, and soiled Damien's hand. He snapped out of his arousal and recognized that fortunately, he was still the only person in the gym. The shower was still going on and he was safe. Dick was still going to act like a slut, and Damien would still have to face the consequences.

Breathing heavily, Damien wondered if he had enough time to go through with his dominance. If Dick was half as erotic in real life as his dreams, then it would all be worth it. He could practically taste Dick's wet body on his tongue, and he could even hear those breathtaking little moans. Damien's plans were shattered when he heard the showers go off.

Shit, Damien groaned. You fucking fool, he told himself. He waited far too long for his opportunity and now it was gone.

"Damien?" He heard Dick called out. He hurriedly cleaned himself off. There was no way to live what happen down if Dick found out. Groaning, his rude reply was suppressed when he notice Dick's attire-or lack of.

"What are you doing in a towel?"

It wasn't even a long towel. It barely past his knees, and looked positively erotic. Dick gave a friendly smile, despite the glare being thrown his way. The kid was cute in his own, murderous way.

"I need some new clothes. My old ones are too sweaty. Do you mind if I get some from my room?"

Damien's throat felt try. Unable to speak, he shook his head and left for the showers. He had to take care of this problem soon.

Dick raised an eyebrow. He had expected a vulgar retort, or an offensive attack. Silence was the last thing he thought he would get. A small grin made way to his lips.

Wow, Dick thought to himself, maybe Damien really is growing up.

* * *

><p>Yeah. I have no doubt that Dick could kick Damien's butt if he tried this. Absolutely no doubt. But it's Damien's fantasy so whatever.<p>

On a side note, I realized that I have yet to write anything but an M rated story on this account. I'm a bit worried. On another, completely random note, I made a poll. It's the first of the DC vs. Marvel series. Thor vs. Superman.


	2. I Generally Avoid Temptation

**Title: **Goodness Had Nothing to Do With It

**Summary: **This is a collection of oneshots that have Damien Wayne screwing the life out of Dick Grayson. Rating for sex, sluttiness, crossdressing, rape, and shota. Maybe all at once.

**A/N: **This is actually an AU because I have a major hot teacher fetish. I got some really great reviews, which I am thankful for, and I hope you guys like this chapter.

On a side note, I imagine that the reason Damien is so hostile to Dick in the comics is because a) he is in love with him and b) the guy is replacing his father, technically. So if Dick was not his guardian, they would probably on more amiable terms. Oh, and in this AU, Dick is Russian, because Russia has a pretty decent Romany population.

**Warnings: **Slashy Thoughts. Minor. Mild OOCness (I tried to make it very mild though but it is an AU)

**Chapter Title: **I Generally Avoid Temptation

* * *

><p>When Bruce Wayne received his dreaded parent-teacher conference reminder, he had to admit to his faithful butler and eternal companion, Alfred Pennyworth, that he was absolutely terrified.<p>

Bruce Wayne had gone through twenty-five parent-teacher conferences in his life and they never held good news. Damien's violent behavior and blatant disrespect of public property costed him thousands of dollars in repairment costs and medical bills alone. Sometimes, Bruce was tempted to lock his son up in some juvenile delinquency center and spare himself the grief. It would certainly serve Batman's reputation as protector of Gotham. From Damien, society needed a lot of protection.

Alas, Bruce was use to receiving the angry, terrified, and downright suicidal messages from the teachers at Damien's school. He learned that with enough of Bruce's carefree persuasion and touches of Batman's intimidation, he could sooth any Damien problems he encountered. What frightened him the most about this particular conference was that the current teacher did not sound angry, terrified, or downright suicidal. Instead, Dick Grayson, a new teacher from Russia of all places, sounded absolutely poised, almost pleasant.

"I'm sorry for interrupting you, Mr. Wayne-"

"It's no trouble at all. Please call me, Bruce," Bruce interrupted with his billionaire charm. Dick gave a soft chuckle, more masculine than the flirtatious giggles of a woman, but more firm than the nervous laughter he normally heard from men. Bruce, the legendary playboy, prided himself on being able to discover attractive people just from the sound of their voice, and he could tell that this _Dick_ was certainly a looker.

"Well, I am calling to make an appointment for Damien's parent-teacher conference. I understand that you are a busy man but I would be eternally grateful if you could find some time to fit it into your schedule. Our meeting is highly anticipated."

Bruce felt himself become a little lost, listening to the words presented at him. As Batman, he took great pride in learning to read between the lines. Perhaps, he was losing his touch with age but he could not quite figure out what was wrong. Normally, the teachers that call were so frantic that Bruce understood what Damien had done from the first sentence.

Neutrality would be the best route to take, Bruce concluded. "I wasn't aware that I had any more conferences to attend. I thought I took care of them at the end of the first quarter. Did something happen recently?"

In other words: what did Damien do and how much will it cost me?

Dick laughed again, carefree and innocent, but Bruce was not convinced. "Of course not, Mr. Wayne-"

"Bruce," he interjected for no reason but habit.

"_Bruce_," Dick purred lightly, his Russian accent accentuating his words. Bruce felt a bit unnerved by the pure sensuality in his voice. He wondered if he talked to all his student's parents like that. "There is nothing wrong. As you may know, I have just been promoted from my substitute position to a full time teacher."

He didn't know that, Bruce admitted disappointedly. How could he? Despite what many people believed, he did not have a supercomputer in his head, reciting countless bits of information every second, nor did he have cameras rigged around the world. With crime lords, supervillains, and drug busts, he couldn't possibly be expected to know every little thing that happens in his son's school.

"I've grown quite fond of the kids here and I just wanted to get to know them better. I know it's a bit late in the year to do so, but I figured it would be nice to interact with them on a more social level. Family has always been important to me and I wanted to see who raised them. Damien, as I just discovered from supervisor, will also be in my homeroom next year."

Bruce raised an eyebrow, "Is that so?"

Bruce tried to sound apathetic. Deep inside, though, he knew his 'is that so' really sounded like 'what the hell is wrong with you?' The man sounded absolutely charmed at the prospect of having Damien in his class again.

"Yes, I think the school administration wants me to feel more comfortable by giving me a familiar face. Naturally, I wanted to introduce myself. I sent Damien a note referencing all my, how do you say, _desires_."

Bruce could not will himself to correct the younger man. No one with a sex voice like that should ever say the word 'desires' outside of a love hotel, a pornographic movie, or a dark alley.

"But Damien never got back to me. It's absolutely adorable how shy he is sometimes."

Bruce was sure he forgot how to breathe. He loved his son, he truly did. Shy, however, was not a word he would use for him. Introverted and tempestuous could work. Irritable and desperately in need of anger management would be highly accurate. But shy? Never.

"So is tomorrow at three okay?"

Bruce remained silent.

"Bruce?" There was the familiar panicked tone he never thought he would look forward to. If only it wasn't for his wellbeing than Damien's problematic actions.

"Tomorrow at three sounds absolutely wonderful."

Without a word of goodbye, Bruce hung up. It was completely out of character for casual, happy-go-lucky Bruce Wayne. Although, it not so out of place for Batman. A groan erupted from his throat as he was handed a glass of scotch from Alfred.

"I'm sure Mr. Grayson will not discover your secret identity from a brisk, five minute phone call."

Bruce offered a grim smile. "You never know, old friend. Besides, this is someone who is looking forward to having Damien in his class next year. That alone makes him stronger than me. What kind of man do you think he is?"

"The kind of man who possesses beautiful blue eyes, wears clothes that are painted on his body, and is absolutely worshipped by your son."

Bruce raised an eyebrow.

Alfred's face remained stoic. "I pick Master Damien up every day at school. There are few things I do not know."

Bruce had to laugh at that. It was then Alfred's words finally crossed his mind. "Wait…are you saying that Damien has a _crush_ on Mr. Grayson?"

"Unless Damien has developed a fine appreciation for ripped jeans, I say the way his eyes follow Mr. Grayson's derriere would be a good indication of a crush."

Bruce nearly choked on his drink. "Is it serious?"

"Do you remember your first crush?"

He remembered her black hair, blue eyes, and perfect dimples when she smiled. He remembered the dress she wore on the first day they met. He remembered her swimming pool and mansion. He forgot her name.

"Not at all."

"Then I believe you have your answer."

Bruce smiled against his better judgment. He was sure that every boy lucky enough to have a supermodel as their instructor fantasized about having a relationship with them. The only weird part about the whole scenario was that it was _Damien_ having the schoolboy crush. It was on a man, no less! Falling for the teacher was so _normal; _he felt relieved that his son was finally having something in common with the millions of victims of the love bug for educators.

A few moments later, Damien stormed through Bruce's study with a force that shook the priceless furniture. Off page, Alfred artfully saved an antique vase from its destruction. Damien was always overly dramatic when it concerned his entrances. Finishing his second drink, Bruce prepared himself for the confrontation that was about to happen.

"Are we going patrolling or what?"

Bruce shook his head. "Gotham is sleeping for once. Besides, I want to get some rest tonight. I just got note of a very important meeting."

Damien scowled. "Another useless engagement with people who think you're an idiot?"

Bruce smirked inwardly. In another conversation, he would have sighed at Damien's stereotypical generalization. Right now, he was enjoying the show.

"I doubt it. Mr. Grayson does not strike me as the type of person who listens to tabloids."

Damien Wayne froze, and slowly tried to compose himself. With gritted teeth, Damien questioned the authenticity of his statement. "Mr. Grayson? _My_ Mr. Grayson?"

Bruce took a split second to ponder on his son's words._ His_ Mr. Grayson? Wasn't someone getting a bit possessive? "Yes, he called me to schedule a parent-teacher conference when I did not make an appointment. Apparently you were supposed to hand me a letter discussing his _desires_. His words, not mine. Tell me does he speak that way to all the parents or am I special?"

Damien felt a knob sized lump in his throat. For once in his life, Damien could not find a smartass comment to respond.

"We will be meeting tomorrow at three. I guarantee you that nothing short of an alien invasion will stop me from getting to this meeting. So don't even try to plant a bomb somewhere or beat someone up and blame it on a drug dealer."

Damien choked. He was still absorbing in the knowledge that his father, who was singlehandedly the biggest slut in Gotham, was meeting his teacher, a simple schoolteacher who had the body of a God, for a meeting. An intense staring contest commenced at that moment. When he discovered that his father was not backing down, Damien found his voice.

"Don't you _dare_ embarrass me," Damien warned. Bruce fought the urge to respond with a cynical reply. He was not going to argue with a child, not even his son. Proving that his departure could be equally as dramatic as his entrance, Damien left the room, allowing the slam of his door to send shockwaves around the room.

Bruce sighed. Kids these days. After requesting Alfred pour him his third round of scotch, he left for bed. Tomorrow was bound to be a very entertaining day.

He was not wrong.

The next morning, Damien launched onto Bruce's bed like a novice assassin. There was no need for stealth or craftiness in his execution. When dealing with such an important issue, he could not afford to be subtle. After going to bed that night, he formulated a plan that would insure his peaceful days of erotic daydreaming would not end. He knew of his father's promiscuous ways and would not allow Mr. Grayson to fall victim to them. His goal was to simply get his message across before he left for school and then fantasize about Mr. Grayson for countless hours before the meeting.

Disregarding his last statement, he eyed his father forebodingly.

"Damien, I am warning you. If you do not get off me this instant, I will not take you on any patrols for a month."

Damn, his father was good! He was using Damien's weakness against him in order to dissuade him from the truth. Damien would prevail nonetheless. He had a mission and a Wayne never failed a mission.

"Listen, _father_," he spoke the last word with contempt, "I am not blind to your Casanova ways, nor am I sightless towards your affection towards both sexes. Let me say one thing: Mr. Grayson is not interested. He isn't like the whores you surround yourself with."

"Damien, what are talking about?" Bruce asked tiredly. He awoke with a start from Damien's abrupt attack. Needless to say, he would not be going back to sleep. Bruce stretched lightly and straightened up to get a better view of his son. Damien watched enviously as his father revealed his muscular frame. It would be years before he looked like that, and who knows if Mr. Grayson would still interested. He didn't know if he was interested now! He could always get held back a few, Damien contemplated. What was the point of going to school anyways? He was an heir to a multi-billion dollar corporation!

"Damien, whatever you are thinking of doing, please stop it now," Bruce pleaded resignedly.

Damien growled, "Don't change the subject!"

"What subject am I changing?" It was far too early in the morning for this!

"The subject of seduction! This afternoon you will be meeting with-"_The world's greatest walking wet dream._ "-my teacher and I don't want you messing anything up!"

Bruce groaned. Maybe he should just send Alfred to the conference. Then he would not have to go through this hell anymore.

"Furthermore, Mr. Grayson isn't someone who can be swayed by money. Last week, one of the parents tried to bribe him with a jaguar to get their son to pass."

"And he didn't take it?" Well, that was impressive. The teachers at Gotham Academy were paid well, but they were hardly the type to turn away 'gifts.' Corruption in Gotham was not restricted to law enforcement and businessmen.

"No, he took it."

"Then what point are you trying to make-"

"He took it and then used it to run over their Mercedes-Benz. Afterwards, he sold it to their _other _son, donated the money to charity, and failed the kid."

Okay, Bruce thought broodingly, I'm starting to see the reason behind the attraction.

"He also doesn't talk to the parents or the administration when a kid gets into trouble. At least, not unless he can't handle it-which is never. That's why you never heard from him until now."

That statement put Bruce on high alert.

"Just how much trouble did you get into?"

Damien had the audacity to look indifferent when he listed his endeavors. "I broke three windows, physically assaulted him, vandalized his motorcycle, trashed his classroom, stole his clothes, and bugged his room."

Bruce winced at the catalog of crimes. "And he still didn't call me?"

"He forced me to take an art class so that we could build mosaics that would replace the windows. He lived off street fighting when he was teenager and twisted my arm. He handcuffed me to the bike and threatened to ride off to Pittsburgh if I did not fix it. When the classroom was trashed, he threw all the chairs and tables outside and encouraged us to 'bond.' His clothes…well he had to borrow some spare gym clothes and…looked really yummy..."

Damien was salivating.

Bruce watched his son oddly. "Damien?"

"Yes, father?" he responded as he wiped away his drool.

"Do you need some alone time?"

"No! I'm...fine."

Bruce nodded. In a long shot, it felt good to know that there was someone out there that could handle his son.

"So what did he do when you bugged his room?"

"…"

"…"

"…what bugged room?"

Bruce's eye twitched.

"Please tell me it still isn't bugged."

"…"

"Damien," Bruce cautioned.

"I have to go. Breakfast. School. Mr. Grayson. But, remember my words and heed my warnings, father." In contrast to his rough actions earlier, Damien sneaked out using his impressive ninja skills. Try as he might, Damien could not cover up the cherry-flavored blush covering his cheeks from his father.

"Ugh…" Bruce groaned. Great, he should have known that having a crush on a teacher would be far from normal when it concerned. Damien had to one up all the millions of boys and girls out there by being a complete, homicidal stalker that thought he actually stood a chance. For once in his life, Alfred was wrong. Damien, like all the other times of insanity in his life, was dead serious about this young man.

Right now, all Bruce Wayne cared about was getting some coffee. It was way too early for this much crazy.

* * *

><p>This chapter was way too long so I decided to split it into two parts. Next one should be coming…sometime. I have a couple of ideas for the next couple of oneshots including ginger!Damien and stripper!Dick. I recently came across these awesome poledancing videos on Youtube and have so many new ideas. Not in the same chapter, of course.<p>

If anybody has any kinks or things they would like to see between the two, go for it. Ask me anything. I might or might not do it but I would definitely consider it if I am intrigued. On another, I can finally write a new story. I can't make one without updating all the current stories I have. It just feels wrong to neglect them and the readers.


	3. Unless I Can Resist It

**Title: **Goodness Had Nothing to Do With It

**Summary: **This is a collection of oneshots that have Damian Wayne screwing the life out of Dick Grayson. Rating for sex, sluttiness, crossdressing, rape, and shota. Maybe all at once.

**A/N: **Due to the lovely reviews I got, I am considering continuing this story on its own. If I do, it will basically be a love triangle between Bruce-Dick-Damian. However, Dick will have some secrets of his own and a hell of lot of shit will be going down. If I decide to turn this into a story.

**Warnings: **Slashy Thoughts. Minor...Implications.

**Chapter Title: **Unless I Can Resist It

* * *

><p>Whenever Dick Grayson arrived to work, he was always surprised by the hordes of students that welcomed him. The last thing the twenty-five year old ever expected to do in his life was forgo his nomadic ways to become a teacher. Now, upon staring at their gleeful expressions, he realized that he would not have it any other way. His <em>moonlighting<em> gave him more than enough excitement and the predictability of his job was a comforting experience.

Getting off his motorcycle, a sleek black and blue vehicle that stood out from the flocks of brand name automobiles, he strutted into the exclusive private school he worked in. He never noticed the dozens of eyes stalking his well-sculpted ass (eyes that were not limited to the female students and employees). He assumed that they were simply fascinated by his casual dress code and riffraff manner. He did not own a suit and believed the strict behavioral standards to be stifling. The only similarities he had to the other teachers were his assignments. Like all the educators at Gotham Academy, he was assigned a homeroom in addition to the World History and Russian classes he taught. Sometimes, he was asked to substitute for other language courses. Dick did not mind, though. He adored the students, and thought their quirks were absolutely adorable.

On this particular morning, he found himself being confronted by Headmaster John Bartholomew.

"Mr. Grayson! Just the person I wanted to see!"

Dick smiled graciously. He spotted the awkward glance the middle-aged man threw his helmet but did not comment on it. "_Dobroye utro!_ Considering you were waiting outside my classroom, I am not surprised. What can I do for you, today?"

The headmaster blushed and cursed himself for doing so. He was a happily married, _straight _man who should _not _be attracted to men old enough to be his son! "I heard that you were having a parent-teacher conference with Bruce Wayne about the anti-Christ-I mean Damian?"

Dick nodded as if he never heard the last comment, "Bruce is the only one of my students' parents that I have yet to meet. Of course, it was quite lovely to converse with his butler, Alfred. Can you imagine raising and working with three Waynes in one lifetime? Damian is wonderful but the patience a man must have!"

The headmaster chuckled nervously. He refused to comment on the 'wonderful' remark.

"Yes, well, I wanted to offer some advice for the conference," he proposed.

Dick raised an eyebrow.

"While your methods have proven to be…_effective, _I hope you understand that Mr. Wayne is a very important man. It would be unwise to displease him. I would like to suggest that you avoid your usual approach to the parents."

Dick tilted his head in confusion, accentuating his innocent features and causing the passing Mr. Novak, the physics teacher, to lose concentration in whatever he was doing. His distraction ended up getting his head slammed against the opening physics room door.

"I'm okay!" He shouted to no one in particular.

"You see, Mr. Grayson," the headmaster started, ignoring the accident as if it were nothing. Mr. Grayson's arrival had led to more injuries in a week than they had in a year. They were finally getting their money's worth on the school nurse. "Mr. Wayne is one of our most generous donors."

Dick frowned worriedly at his coworker but turned his attentions to his boss. "I afraid I do not understand."

"We can't make him _unhappy_."

The pieces began to form in Dick's head.

"It is _vital_ we continue getting his _support._"

They started coming together.

"I want to make sure this conference will have _positive_ results."

He formed his picture.

"Are you asking me to whore myself out?"

Dick Grayson appeared horrified.

The headmaster choked at the assumption. "Of course not! I just wanted to prevent him from withdrawing his donations!"

Dick muttered a thankful 'oh.' He recognized his mistake and smiled brightly. Embarrassment appeared beneath him. "Oh! I see. Well, that won't be a problem. Damian and I may have gotten off to a rough start but he's doing very well now. He's quite intelligent, some behavioral problems, but that's to be expected. My conference with Bruce will be absolutely lovely, I'm sure of it."

The headmaster sighed in relief. "Well, thank God for that…"

Dick grinned. "I am positive it will be just fine. I'll even give you my word. Thank goodness you weren't suggesting what I thought you were suggesting. I have not done _that _in years! _Do svidaniya!_"

Dick swaggered to his homeroom leaving Headmaster Bartholomew a sputtering wreck. It was moments like these that caused him to wonder why he hired Richard Grayson in the first place.

Damian Wayne adamantly denied that he was one of the love struck teenagers that swooned over Dick Grayson like a white chocolate raspberry truffle. He was merely an avid student dedicated to protecting his teacher from the masses of hormonal young boys and girls. Where would Mr. Grayson be if he had not pushed a few future rapists down the stairs or tied a few sexual offenders to a pole overlooking the school?

Dick was dressed in a rather badass ensemble that consisted of a pair of tight black jeans tailored to his perfect butt and a gray t-shirt sculpting his upper body. He wore his traditional leather jacket and held his brown bag over his right shoulder while his helmet was in his left hand. Smiling warmly at his students and fellow employees, he sauntered to his classroom while the rest followed like children to Peter Piper.

Reluctantly joining the classroom, he watched Dick's conversation with open eyes and alerted ears. Anger coursed through his veins. How dare the headmaster suggest sweet, perfect Mr. Grayson do such a thing! He denied it in the end but Damian knew it was only to save him from years of unrelenting torture. Damian disregarded Dick's further comment and focused on revenge. Someone was going to need a major ass-kicking.

When Dick finally entered the classroom, everybody was instantly charmed by his presence. He heedlessly took off his jacket, resulting in numerous gasps and moans. Damian bit his lip.

"You make me shriek and bend."

Damian choked.

"Damian, are you okay?" Dick questioned anxiously. Damian's face was burning up and he wondered if he was sick.

"W-what did you just say?"

"I asked 'What are you doing this weekend?'"

Damian coughed a little more and grumbled a strain 'nothing' before delving his head into a book he wasn't reading. Dick smiled at Damian's timidity, and inwardly mused on how cute his antics were. He turned back to the rest of his class.

"What are _you_ doing this weekend, Mr. Grayson?" One of Dick's female admirers asked. Damian glared at the corner of his eye. Rotten little sycophant.

"Well, some of my friends invited me to go rock-climbing, but I'll probably turn down the offer…"

"Why? Are you afraid of heights or something?" She inquired, concerned and a bit eager for some new information on her favorite teacher.

Mr. Grayson laughed, "No, not even close. I got into a racing accident recently and might not be up to my best game."

"What happened?" The guys asked excitedly. They were amongst the few that did not have a crush on Mr. Grayson and admired his adventurous lifestyle. Being the sons of bankers and lawyers offered them only boring dinner parties and galas.

Dick blushed and scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. "Well, I came too quickly and ended up burning my exhaust pipe before the match was finished. I was basically running on fumes. Near the finish line, my bike crashed into one of the mechanic garages and I was stuck under this monster. To make matters worse, I had a huge screwdriver jammed inside me and all I could do was beg for release. My back is still healing from the injuries. I'm afraid if I go rock-climbing with the guys, they'll just gang up on me. They're always so rough. I usually can't walk for days after they're done."

Damian made a strange noise consisting of a whimper and choke.

This was going to be the longest day of his life.

In another building not too far from Gotham Academy, an attractive man in his late thirties found himself glaring at the computer screen. It was peculiar for his everyday persona as a carefree billionaire (whose scandals range from the numerous celebrities he dated to his newly found lovechild) but no one bother to comment on it. The man had remarkably matured since the discovery of his son, and on occasion, he had moments of weariness such as he did today.

Bruce Wayne, or Batman during his nightly hours, was a paranoid man. He did not doubt that his son had already gone through the trouble of an identity check (though more likely for personal use than as a security measure), but love made one blind. Damian could have caught some vital information and disregarded it for his infatuation.

Even after hacking immigration, several government agencies, and the police network, Bruce found next to nothing on Richard Grayson. All he learned was that upon coming to the states, Richard attended Hudson University, drop out of Hudson University, drop back in a year later, and finally got his degree. Bruce gritted his teeth. While he never considered himself a snob, he wondered why he spent twenty-five thousand dollars a year for a school that was willing to hire college drop-outs that had absolutely no experience with children.

"Damn…," Bruce grumbled. He was reading far too much into it. There was something off about him, though. Damian mentioned that he was street fighter in Russia. Apparently, he had the skills to overpower Damian and handcuff him to a motorcycle. The fact that he had virtually no past or pictures in any database (not even a license) would unnerve anyone in the crime-fighting business.

At least, everyone but his son.

When the last bell rang, Damian darted from his desk with agility enviable by many superhero speedsters. For once, he was trying to avoid his future husband. Though said future husband was completely unaware of his engagement status, it did not hinder his warm smile when he saw his precious student dashing out the door.

"Damian, I want you to get down and dirty with me."

Damian, with all the grace on a one legged elephant, tripped.

"W-what?" He sputtered out.

"I said 'Damien, even though it's two-thirty, you don't have to leave.' We have a conference, remember? You can wait here until your father comes."

Damian nodded coldly, and hid his embarrassment with a scowl. He crossed his arms and sat away-_far away_-from his teacher's gaze. He hated how childish he acted around him!

"You can do your homework while you wait," Dick suggested.

Damian glared. The reference to homework made him sound like a kid. "I don't have any," he lied.

"I assigned you an essay on the pros and cons of communism in America."

Damian blushed and turned further away.

Dick smiled gently. He walked over to him, and Damian could smell the scent of sweat and dried herbs spreading through his body. His eyes held a sensual longing that was quickly masked by his caring front. It was to disguise his unbridled desire for Damian. He was sure of it.

"I understand that our meeting makes you nervous."

"It does not-!"

"Shh…" Dick whispered, placing a slender finger against his lips. Damian's entire body trembled at the gesture. "I just want you to know that underneath all that anger, you are a wonderful person and your father is incredibly lucky to have you as a son."

Damian could not help the warm flush of pride that ran through his body.

"Whatever," he muttered, though he could not hide the beginning formations of a smile. Dick returned it with his trademark grin and ruffled his head. He turned his attentions to the windows. Apparently, something by the entrance caught his attention.

"Damian?"

"Yeah?" He replied, still basking in the compliment.

"Your father's here…and he is quite popular," Dick responded in a sing-song voice. His eyes were bright and playful as they witnessed the crowds of teachers and excited seniors swooning over the older man. Teenagers and their crushes, oh how he remembered the day.

Damian blushed for the fiftieth time and muttered his second 'whatever.'

Bruce Wayne was the urban dictionary definition of a hot dad, or DILF (Daddy I'd Like to Fuck). The minute he stepped foot outside, women swarmed around him like vultures to a piece of carcass. Dick Grayson was not surprised. In addition to his great wealth, Bruce was a handsome man with regal features and an incredible body. As Gotham's 'royalty,' Bruce and Damian shared a noble aura that was obvious to anyone who set eyes upon them.

Dick frowned slightly as he watched the older man, who was currently being led to his classroom by the headmaster. He always suspected Mr. Wayne to be the source of Damian's insecurity, and perhaps held a bit of a grudge against him in honor of it. He differed from his colleagues in his philosophy that teachers should be on their students' sides, instead mindlessly following their parents' checkbooks.

Bruce was foolishly laughing at the headmaster's poor attempt of humor. The tense position of his body, the forced expression of relaxation, and his bored gaze implied that he honestly did not give a damn in simple pleasantries.

"Why are you looking at him like that?" Damian spat out jealously.

Dick turned to his student, a bit surprised by the venomous tone, but was still able to smile like nothing happen. "You don't have to be jealous, Damian. I was just curious to see how he looked in person. Television and photos certainly don't do him justice."

"I'm not jealous!" Damian shrieked. He ruthlessly kicked a desk despite his history with the consequences.

Dick did not pay any mind to it. He sweetly leaned down into the Wayne heir's ear and whispered, "You know, the photos and film did not do _you_ justice either."

Dick giggled at his reward: a blushing Damian. Fun for all occasions!

"I hope you don't tease all your students like that," a low voice queried from the door, revealing a gorgeous Bruce Wayne and a shaking-in-his-boots Headmaster Bartholomew. Bruce was, indeed, much better looking in person, and had mastered a casual seductive stance that his son had yet to learn. He literally oozed charm and sensualism.

Unfortunately for Bruce _and_ Damian, Dick knew all the rules to the game being played. Hell, he mastered them before it was even legal to learn them.

"Only the ones I like," Dick replied smoothly. He walked over to the door in his tight jeans and t-shirt and successfully closed it in the headmaster's aghast face.

"Shall we?" Dick questioned as he led both Waynes to his desk and officially began the conference.

Bruce Wayne expected a lot of things from Dick Grayson. It was obvious from Damian's reaction that he was going to be eye candy, a possibly cheap tart that wore tight leather clothing and bent down to pick up a pencil every ten seconds. He was surprised when he saw the cross between an underwear model and a character out of Shakespeare's sonnets. It was clear that he worked out-_a lot_. His words were not of the refined, Gotham elite but were hardly street rat material. He spoke with confidence, something Bruce was unuse to when arriving in Damian's classroom.

Dick spoke, initiating the conference.

"Master, I would like you to spank me."

Bruce blanched.

"I bet you want me to repeat what I just said."

Bruce gave Dick a shaky grin. "How'd you guess?"

"Damian has been having hearing problems for the last couple of weeks. You have the same expressions when you're shocked or unsure. I would really have that checked, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce put on his most charming grin, which instantly covered up his nerves. "I thought I told you to call me Bruce."

Dick smiled wryly, "So you did, _Bruce._"

There was that accent again, Bruce noted. He figured now was a good as time as ever to do some digging.

"So, from what I hear Mr. Grayson, or can I call you Richard or Dick?"

"Actually, let's stick with Mr. Grayson for now," Dick started, stunning the rest of the members in the room. He threw a meaningful smile towards Damian. "Please don't take this the wrong way but I believe that Damian should have the honor of calling me by my first name before you do. He has known me longer, after all. Unfortunately, no matter how hard I try, none of my students have done so."

"Rejected," Damian smirked. Bruce fought the urge to smack him upside the head. Instead, he smiled suavely.

"Well, if I got to know you better that would no longer be a problem."

Dick took on a ponderous expression as if he did not catch the flirtatious connotations. "I suppose that's true. Is there anything in particular you would like to know about me?"

Bruce smiled like a man-eating predator. He ignored the kick his son sent him and the shocking 'be nice' look. Oh, how the pot was calling the kettle black.

"Well, first of all, I am wondering how a beautiful being as yourself began working in such an uptight community. My butler, Alfred, informed me that you are from Russia. It's quite a long way to travel for a teaching position."

"_Da_," Dick agreed. "As you may have guessed, I did not go to America overcome by the decision to educate thousands of young lives."

Bruce chuckled falsely.

"I was actually here recuperating from an accident in Europe. I already had citizenship in America so instead of applying for a visa in a closer country; I decided to renew my old passport. I am a law abiding citizen if you had your doubts."

The atmosphere noticeably thickened and Damian was quiet for a reason other than shock and embarrassment. He basked in the enjoyment of his father being in hot water for once. Bruce calmed himself down and did not throttle his son-whom he loved and adored.

Dick grinned. "Yes, believe it or not, my parents were trapeze artists in the circus. I was even in their act for a short amount of time. My parents traveled around the world and while they were here, in Gotham, my mother gave birth to me. We came here for a show seventeen years ago, which was the last time I was in Gotham."

"What happened?" Bruce asked further.

For once, Dick's smile was gone. "My parents were killed in an 'accident,'" he spoke the words in obvious disbelief. The grim tone surprised Damian, having never heard such cynicalism from his teacher. "The police disregarded my testimony and I was to be sent to an orphanage. Fortunately for me, I had some relatives in Russia who eventually took me after some _persuasion._"

"Persuasion?"

Dick fought the instincts that told him to laugh. "Yes, your persuasion in fact, Bruce. I figured you would not recognize me."

Bruce eyes widened and Damian appeared a mix of shock and rage. Dick knew Bruce? Bruce knew Dick?

That bastard.

Dick easily calmed the air with his laughter and smiles. He was quite adept in such methods, it seemed. "Please calm down! We only met for a brief moment. You were at the circus the night my parents died. You paid for their funeral and gave my aunt a rather generous amount to take me in. If it weren't for you, I would have ended up in an orphanage-or worst."

Bruce remained surprised. "I did that?"

Dick looked wistful. "It was one of the kindest things someone ever did for me, especially after the life I had."

Bruce was apologetic. He could recall the incident more clearly now. It was impossible to forget the image of the beautiful couple falling to their deaths while their son balled his eyes out at the scene. He remembered the boy was rushing down the latter, gripping onto their dead bodies and begging for them to wake up. He felt empathy for the child, then. To lose both his parents in front his eyes was something they both shared.

Dick Grayson was that child.

"I'm sorry for what happened."

Dick shook his head. "The past is past. I guess I became stronger because of it. Besides, the man who did it is in prison, thanks to Batman."

Bruce nodded and paid no attention to the vibes of envy coming from Damian. If Damian was not jealous before (which he was), he was utterly resentful now. Bruce and Batman? God, he could never win!

"Of course, why I do enjoy all the attention, this conference is about Damian. So I know that if you are half as dramatic as the other parents, you have already done a thorough identity check to 'get to know me' and found absolutely nothing."

Bruce stilled for a split second but it was enough for Dick to catch it.

"I will tell you now that you will have better luck searching 'Ryeka Graesinka,' my Romany name, which I have used most of my life. I will not lie. You will find several arrest warrants, pictures of me half-naked, and a few rumors that I do not care to share."

Damian recorded all of this information. Finally, he could find a photo that would replace his three foot poster of Dick in their school's gym clothes.

"With that being said, I'm sure we can finally get to Damian. I am aware that you only met four years ago."

"Yes," Bruce confirmed and was met by a blinding smile. Bruce found himself unable to look away from those gorgeous blue orbs and perfect set of white teeth. "His mother kept him a secret from me and after ten years, wanted to cause a mild disruption. We have been getting along splendidly, though."

Damian scoffed and this time, Bruce responded by placing a _firm_ pat on his shoulder.

Dick chuckled, "You don't have to put up an act for me, Bruce. I am not a reporter and I don't associate with any. I do agree, though, that you have adapted remarkably well to fatherhood. I know many wealthy men who would rather disregard their children than raise them. Were you the one who taught him how to fight?"

Bruce tensed, and shot a mild glare at his son. "Actually, his skills are products of martial arts lessons his mother bought him. Damian told me what he did to you, and I deeply apologize."

Dick raised an eyebrow. "He told you that in the middle of detention, he lunged at me and attempted to tear off all my clothes? Then proceeded to unleash the items of his self-made rape kit which included, but is not limited to, rope, lubricant, and a camera?"

"He didn't give me the details," Bruce gritted out. "May I talk with Damian for just a moment?"

"Of course."

Bruce gave him a strained smile and dragged his son outside the room.

"You tried to rape him?" He asked in a half-whisper, half-yell.

"What? It's not like I succeeded!" Damian defended himself.

"That's not the point!"

"What is the point?"

"It's illegal!"

"So is vigilantism!"

"Fighting crime and sexual assault are two completely different things!"

Damian glared. "I did not sexually assault Mr. Grayson because I didn't succeed."

"You are still trying!"

"No, I am trying to seduce him. Besides, you are one to talk! What the hell are you doing anyway? What is with the 'well, if I got to know you better that would no longer be a problem'?"

Bruce felt mildly mortified at his son's accusations. "I was putting on an act."

"No, you were putting on your game. It's not fair. I already called dibs on Mr. Grayson's ass."

Bruce mentally hit himself. He refused to argue with his son about the posession of Mr. Grayson's ass. "You can't call dibs on people or their rear ends."

"Then, stop staring at his rear end. He's too young for you!"

"He's too old for you!"

"It's better with me! If you get with Mr. Grayson, it makes you a pedophile! If I get with Mr. Grayson, it makes me one lucky son of a bitch."

Bruce's response was cut short when Mr. Grayson poked his head out to check on them. "As much as I encourage all forms of father-son bonding and compliments towards by butt, I really think we should get back to the conference."

The two Wayne males blushed in embarrassment. They headed inside and were greeted with Dick's all-knowing grin, the grin that Damian was familiar with whenever a student confessed to a crime or severely humiliated himself.

"While this is certainly the most entertaining conference I have ever hosted," Dick revealed casually. "I regretfully do have to take this seriously." He officially let go of any formality now that his guests' dignity was shattered. "Damian is definitely my most troublesome student. He embodies everything one would expect from a deranged terrorist and an overly dramatic superhero. If I had to pick any two, I would go with Batman and Ra al Ghul."

Both of them blanched at the comparison.

"However, Damian has proven to be quite brilliant when he puts his mind to it, and excels in everything he does. I normally suggest joining a sport but considering Damian's blatant disgust towards social interaction, I really do not want to be held responsible for his teammates' deaths. Nonetheless, he has strong… _beliefs _which are fairly disturbing. However, it is refreshing to learn that someone his age does have an opinion and I look forward to seeing him next year."

Bruce and Damian stared blankly. During the evaluation, Dick had licked his lips twice and fiddled with his soft, black locks. Dick watched the two oddly.

"Bruce, this is when you gaze upon your son with pride. Damian, this is when you pretend you don't care but is actually giddy inside."

Dick tilted his neck to reveal his smooth, alabaster skin.

"...Well, thank you for today, Mr. Grayson. It was quite enlightening. I suppose this conference is over?"

Dick nodded, "I rather not put you or Damian through this misery any longer."

Bruce thought against replying with a flirtatious comment when he saw the warning glare from his son. Then, he figured he deserved a reward and Damian needed some punishment.

"I wasn't joking when I said we should get to know each other better."

Dick raised an eyebrow and smirked, "You do not give up do you?"

"Not if I can help it."

Dick sighed in mock exaggeration. He glanced at the boy glowering at his father and then to the billionaire once more. "I don't think it would be appropriate."

"We're consenting adults."

Dick did laugh this time. "I wonder what's running through _your_ head. But again, no. We probably have nothing in common."

"We have Damian."

"Who is glaring daggers at your head and completely against the arrangement. I imagine he's also quite annoyed being referred to as third person."

"He'll get over it. Besides, I am merely suggesting we talk, not date. I am not opposed to either-"

"I can guarantee that if you finish that sentence, Damian will come into your room late at night and wake you up with a dagger pressed against your throat."

Bruce chuckled at Dick's warped humor and accurate prediction. "I think I can handle myself."

"Somehow, I doubt you want to," Dick commented before turning his back on him. Bruce snatched his arm, enraging every core of Damian's body. To emphasize his anger, Damian departed in a huff. He could not take any more of this painful love scene. Bruce felt the tingling of guilt but knew it was for the best. Eventually, Damian needed to understand that he was a child in society's eyes. Dick did not look offended but was obviously stunned by the advance.

"How about a cup of coffee?" Bruce suggested.

Dick 'tsked' before taking back his hand. "Don't take this the wrong way because you are a very attractive man, but I don't date _or_ have 'coffee' with my student's parents. Conflict of interests and all that crap. I also don't like it when people manhandle me without my permission. I had enough of that when I was-_anyways_, long story short, Damian has a better shot than you at this point."

Bruce was caught off guard but his smirk did not falter. The best thing about having a foolish persona was that every stupid thing he did was an act. He could look back on his idiocy and withdraw all liability from it.

"You know I could have you fired for a comment like that?"

"You know that if I was fired then I would have no moral obligations to not sleep with my students?" Dick countered effortlessly. Bruce had to admit that above all, the young man had balls.

"Or their parents?"

Dick did not respond with words. He gave Bruce a saucy smirk before returning to his desk. This time, he was not stopped by any playboy billionaires.

"I made a promise to the headmaster to not upset you so I'll let you have the last word. But I want to talk to Damian before you leave so could you call him in? He should be waiting outside."

Bruce agreed silently. True enough, Damian greeted him with a look of death when he left the classroom.

"He wants to see you," Bruce told him. Damian growled and stormed into the room. Instead of easedropping on the conversation, Bruce decided to head to his car. He had loads of theories he wanted to share with Alfred.

"You wanted to see me?" Damian asked bitterly.

"I wanted to see if you were alright."

"Alright about what? My dad hitting on you? Or you flirting back like some tramp-"

"I could make you feel so much better if you would shut up and listen."

Damian remained silent. He knew he wasn't misinterpreting anything this time.

"I am not interested in your father or any other man that walks into my classroom. I'm sorry if I made you think I was," He tenderly placed his hands on Damian's cheek, causing him to wince. He wanted a reason to hate Dick. "Damian, I would not do anything that would make you uncomfortable. I care about you very much."

"You do?" Damian questioned, sounding more eager than he wanted to.

Dick reassured him. "Yes, and if you can keep a secret, I will tell you that you are my favorite student."

"I am?"

Seriously, he was sure that he would never be anybody's favorite anything.

"Yes, solely for the fact that you cause the most trouble," he joked, "and I can't get you out of my mind."

Damian was burning up again and reminded himself to work on his embarrassment reflexes. Putting on his infamous scowl, he turned away. "Mr. Grayson…"

"Yes?"

"I'm calling you Dick from now on."

"I would _love _it if you did," Dick purred erotically into Damian's ear. At that moment, the blood flowing in Damian's face took a U-turn and headed straight down.

Damn it all to hell.

* * *

><p>Hope you enjoyed it. I have one question, though.<p>

Why did no one tell me that I was spelling Damian's name wrong? I was looking something up in the rhyming dictionary and notice that it was 'Damian' and not 'Damien.' I confirmed it on Wikipedia and then notice that it was spelledlike that in the character category. I am really oblivious. Forgive me.

Oh, and I know nothing about racing. Dick is a Russian in this story. He doesn't get it. That's my only explanation for the countless euphemisms. It took me forever to make his dialogue because I don't get innuendos myself. _Ryeka_ _Graesinka_ is Dick's Romany name. Well, Ryeka is anyways. I think it's sexy. Bruce is hitting on Dick because he is hot and he doesn't want his son to get his heart broken when Dick rejects him. Dick is flirting back because he's...Russian. I hope I don't offend any Russians reading this. You guys are a sexy group of people. Dick doesn't mean anything when he flirts and while he is slightly aware of his students' crushes, he doesn't believe that they're serious. Basically, he's screwed.


	4. It's better to be looked

**Title: **Goodness Had Nothing to Do With It

**Summary: **Damian has an inappropriate boyfriend.

**A/N: **Recently, I kind of fell out of love with DamianxDick and more into ColinxDamian. I can't help it. They are so cute! However, I really wanted to do a stripper!fic and no one fit the role more than Dick. So, as a favor to me, when Dick comes in, could you please listen to the song "Fever" by Adam Lambert. Because that's the song I imagine to be playing whenever he walks into a room.

**Warnings: **Minor in a relationship with an older man. Pretty tamed, actually.

**Chapter Title: **It's better to be looked (than overlooked)

* * *

><p>"Father, I'm in love with a stripper."<p>

Silence fills the room at first. Then, it is followed by an extreme fit of coughing.

Bruce stops what he's doing. He succeeds in not looking shocked, before calmly sitting down and looking at his son, who is staring at him with great determination. Next to him, Tim is choking on his water and on the other side, Jason is laughing to the point of tears. Alfred merely raises an eyebrow and returns to the kitchen to fetch the soup.

"And who is the lucky girl?" Bruce asks diplomatically. He doesn't like to upset his son when it comes to trivial matters. People tend to get hurt when that happens. More often than not, it's Tim.

Damian beams, "It's not a girl. Or even a boy. He's a _man._"

Oh. _Oh. _Bruce wonders if he should be worried that he did not realize his son's appreciation for the same sex or proud that Damian is so comfortable with his sexuality. After feeling a bit of both, Bruce finds himself concern about the issue of this 'man.'

"And where did you meet this _man_?" Bruce asks delicately, emphasizing the last word. If he is lucky, the guy is 18, which doesn't change the fact that he's a stripper, but at least makes him age appropriate for his 17 year old son. Bruce acknowledges, however, that he is never that lucky and that Damian loves his cougars.

...Maybe he shouldn't be too surprised.

"I think we can deduce that for ourselves, Bruce," Jason quips once he's finished laughing. Bruce glares at him but Jason pays no heed. "The real question is which club does he work at?"

"The Kinky Cocks Steakhouse," Damian answers shamelessly. "Home of the finest pieces of meat."

"Oh, I know that place," Jason informs Bruce. "One time, I offered this red head there three hundred dollars to let me finger him and he punch me in the face."

Bruce fights the urge to bang his head against the table. "And how is that relevant?"

"It shows that people there have class and a great ass. Double whammy."

Bruce cannot justify that with a response. He turns back to his son. "How did you meet him?"

Damian is pleased. This is going far better than he thought it would. "Remember two months ago, when I stayed over at Jai's with Colin, Chris, and Ceridian?"

Bruce nods, not liking where this is going.

"We decided that, in an effort to bond, as you encouraged me to do, we should go to a strip club and participate in the joint act of voyeurism," Damian explains, as if his logic was based on pure scholarly pursuit.

"And all the female ones were full?" Jason teases.

At least, Bruce notes, Damian had the decency to blush. "We were curious."

"More like _bi curious_," Tim mutters.

Bruce shoots the his boys a glare to be quiet. "Go on, Damian."

Damian's eyes grew soft, as if recalling a fine memory. "I didn't want to go one of the STD infested hellholes so I found a highly recommended establishment and then paid them off to let us enter. No one turns down a Wayne," Damian says proudly. Bruce has to work on that. "There, I met Dick."

"Who?"

"Dick."

"Is that his stripper name?" Tim asks in disbelief. He is trying desperately not to care and yet he cannot help it.

"No, that's his real name."

"His real name is Dick?" Jason pops in. "His parents really called it! What's his stripper name?"

"Dick Derriere," Damian informs proudly.

"Oh, I see he put in a little French. That means he's sophisticated. He might have graduated high school. I approve," Jason encourages. Bruce almost smacks him.

Damian continues his story, "I asked the manager to send us his best dancers. The other guys were happy with the ones they got, but I had to have the best of the best. Dick made me wait a bit, but he was completely worth it. His show was awesome. Dick was new, but he worked that pole like he was born on it." Bruce cringes at the revelation. "When he finally came to me, he was already sweaty and dripping from head to toe," Damian reminisces. "All of us were kind of just staring but then he took the initiative and offered me a lap dance."

"Did he notice that you were all underage?" Bruce interrogates. He fights the urge to put on his bat suit and inform the club managers that letting a bunch of seventeen to sixteen year old boys into their club is not a good idea.

"He called us little lost lambs looking for some fun...and anyways, age is nothing but a number!" Damian defends quickly, careful to remember his position. "So he was grinding on me, and we began to talk."

Tim raises an eyebrow at this. "You had a conversation with a stripper?"

"Was it dirty?" Jason asks.

Damian snarls at the accusation. "We had many mutual interests. Dick turned out to be a worldly young man who was cultural and free spirited and enjoy the finer things in life. After we returned to Jai's house, I began to look him up and investigate him."

"Oh, I knew there would be some stalking. Go on," Tim comments with a tone of faux sarcasm. Damian glares. He was always his least favorite brother.

"So I arrange for some meetings, and we began to pursue a genuinely relationship built on mutual trust and understand. Last week, I realize we were in love. I've even arrange for him to come to dinner to meet you all. Tonight."

"What?" Bruce demands, outrage by the sudden turn of events. "What do you mean he's coming here tonight?"

"That he's coming here. Tonight. He is very important to me, father, and I want you all to get to know him as have. Well, I want you and Alfred. I could care less about Drake and Todd."

"Oh, this will be good. Why not invite Talia and your granddaddy along the ride? It'll be fun!" Jason suggests, much to chagrin of Bruce and Tim.

"That's for next week."

Of course it was.

Alfred, who had just begin to serve the soup (while majestically setting up another spot at the table without any of them noticing) turns to Damian. "When will your guest arrive, Master Damian? It would be distasteful if he were to come to a cold meal."

Damian actually looks a bit nervous. "I told him to come at seven...maybe there's traffic."

"Or maybe he decided that meeting his underage sugar daddy's real daddy was not a good idea," Tim suggests dryly. Damian's comeback is cut short by the sound of a doorbell.

Damian's head snaps at the sound like a dog. Bruce makes a motion to get up, but Alfred stops him. "Nonsense, Master Bruce. I will get it. Just make yourself comfortable."

Damian glowers at his entire family. "Be nice. I will not have you chase away the love of my life."

"Well you know what they say! If he can't handle us at our worst, then he doesn't deserve us at our best," Jason jokes flamboyantly.

"Go get beaten by a crowbar."

Jason flares up. "You little shit-!"

"I present you Master Dick."

When they first saw Damian's crush, their jaws drop.

"That's it, I'm dating a stripper next!" Jason declares loudly, earning a thrown knife from Damian and three glares from Alfred, Bruce, and Tim.

Dick did not take offense. If anything, his perfect features shows amusement. Good lord, it is a good look on him. Though, Tim is sure any look would be a good look on him. The man is a god. Tim has met real gods before, and he's pretty sure that Dick would have smoke them all in the sexy department. His skin is flawless. There is not a mark on him. His body is lean, cut like an experience ballerino and his eyes-his eyes were like the pools in paradise. The older man threw a smile at him, and Tim felt his heart skip. Shit.

"May I take your coat, Master Dick?" Alfred asks habitually.

Dick grins, a leisurely, cat-like smile. "Thank you...I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Alfred," he replies curtly. Dick hands him his jacket, but not before giving him a peck on the lips causing the old man to blush. "It is an honor to meet you Alfred. And I was joking about not knowing your name. Damian's told me all about you," he explains with a giggle.

Damian goes up to greet him and they share a deep, passionate kiss, unaware of the world around them. Tim notices that Damian is a few inches shorter than Dick, but the young vigilante took full advantage of his lack of height and proceeds to grope Dick's butt. Bruce clears his throat, and the two separate reluctantly.

"I miss you," Dick whispers sensually, causing Damian to flush a deep red.

"Me, too," Damian mutters shyly.

Dick smirks at Damian's behavior and turns to greet his family. Fuck that, he doesn't turn, he struts. No one could resist staring at those swaying hips.

"I apologize for my lack of punctuality. I was a bit nervous and got pulled over by a cop for speeding," Dick informs them honestly. "It took me awhile to get out of it."

"I'm sure it did," Tim agrees, hypnotize by the motion of those fabulous hips. Jason practically launches at him.

"I'm Jason. Let me say that I've been dying to meet you. Tell me, do you speak French? Cause I heard what your stripper name was and you sure as hell live up to the promise," Jason tells him.

Damian wants to hide under a rock. He hastily looks around for some objects to bludgeon Jason with.

Dick walks forward until they are an inch apart. He leans in against Jason's ear, "Que est-ce que je devrais dire? J'ai parié vous voulez que je te parle sale. Jason?"

Jason stills. He feels the blood rushing to his nether regions.

"I am so turned on right now."

Damian almost tackles him.

"Jason," Bruce warns, his voice lace with a clear threat, "Sit down. Now."

Jason pouts, "Don't I get a kiss first? Alfred got one!"

Dick laughs and gives him a peck on his cheeks.

"That's not a real kiss!"

Dick becomes reacquainted with Jason's ear. "I only give kisses to good boys. _And you were a really, really bad boy, Jason."_

Jason finally sits down after that. Tim suspects it has something to do with his rising erection. He realizes from the look on Bruce's face that he is next. Dick grins and Tim feels like he might be eaten any moment. He also feels like he might not mind so much. "You must be Tim," Dick purrs. Or hisses, like a snake. Dick, Tim realizes, is a snake. He wants to eat him, Tim, the mouse. And Tim might just let him.

"I must be," Tim responds quickly, eyes on the floor. Don't look in his eyes. Don't look at his legs. Don't look at his perfect body. Oh! Look at his feet. Those are really sexy feet. Agh! Don't look at him, Tim warns himself.

"Is there something wrong, _Tim_?" Dick asks him, his tone is a mixture of concern and sexual connotation.

Tim winces and forces himself to look at Dick.

Shit. Still sexy. Not a good move.

He reluctantly holds out his hand for a handshake. "It's nice to meet you, Dick."

Dick agrees and when he leans in for a kiss, Tim is shaking. Then, he does it. It lasts only for a split second and Tim is able to acknowledge that Dick has the prettiest, softest, most kissable lips in the universe. Damian, for some reason, isn't jealous over Dick's European-style greetings, but glares at the older boys on principle.

Finally, it is Bruce's turn.

Bruce tries to be intimidating. He is using his bat-stance and his bat-glare, but they have no affect on Dick, who seems to sparkle in adversity. Later that night, Tim will state his suspicions that the sparkles are related to body glitter but Jason and Damian will deny it, as they believe it to be natural.

"I'm Bruce, Damian's _father_," he emphasizes the 'father' part, as if hoping it will help Dick realize that he is far too old Damian.

"So I heard!" Dick exclaims happily, "You are a truly wonderful parent. Your son looks up to you so much."

Bruce seems surprise by that knowledge, though neither Jason, nor Tim are. Tim is surprise that Damian has told his boyfriend so much about them. He hopes, though, that Tim recognizes the importance of secrecy.

Alfred finally comes in, "If you do not mind the interruption, sir, the soup is getting cold."

Bruce nods, not taking his eyes off Dick, who isn't the least bit affected. "Thank you, Alfred."

Dick beams and before Bruce can stop him, Dick gives him a peck on the lips and Bruce swears he feels a tingle. Dick takes a seat next to his lover, and proceeds to enjoy the meal.

"What soup is this?" Dick asks curiously, taking a sip and making the most inappropriate moan in the existence of soup sipping. "_Hmm...It's so good_."

Tim eats his soup a little faster.

"Avgolemono," Alfred replies expressionlessly, though he took a bit longer than normal to respond.

"_Oh! This is so thick! I love it!_"

Jason squeaks.

_"And the taste! It's tangy and creamy and oh!"_

"Alfred, get him the damn recipe!" Jason orders.

As Dick proceeds to enjoy his dish, the other men at the table lost their shame and began to stare blatantly. Jason forcibly drops his napkin. He pulls Damian down, and as an afterthought, brings Tim to the ground.

"Why the hell is your boyfriend such a..._sexpot?" _Jason grills.

Damian scowls. "I don't know!"

"Liar! You know!" Jason accuses.

Tim wants to bury his head in the sand, though he refuses to admit he was a bit grateful for Jason pulling him down instead subjecting him to watch that torturous display of erotica.

Damian looks around, as if expecting someone to join them on the floor. "He's..."

"What?"

"He's...He's _Russian_," Damian discloses in a hiss.

Tim scoffs, "What does that have to do with-?"

"I knew it!" Jason proclaims, as if it explained everything. "But I didn't hear an accent?"

"Raised in America. In the _circus_," Damian reveals.

Jason gasps scandalously.

Tim groans. Why the hell does he put up with these two?

"He might as well be French!"

From above, Bruce is a myriad of emotions. Shame and embarrassment, mostly. After years of training and patrol, how the hell do none of them remember how to keep their voices down? They are underneath the table! Of course he and Dick can hear them!

"I'm sorry for their behavior," Bruce apologizes. Dick looks at him through his long lashes, in a sultry gaze. If anything, he is entertained.

Dick shakes his head. "There is nothing to apologize for. Boys will be boys."

"You would know," Bruce comments distastefully. He regrets it once he says it, especially since Alfred is looking at him disapprovingly.

Insults do not work on Dick, however, and the younger man laughs mirthfully. "I work in a strip club full of sleazy men with big wallets. If you want to hurt my feelings, you have to try harder than that."

Bruce hopes he doesn't look as ashamed as he feels. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know," Dick reassures. "I am a twenty-two year old stripper whose going out with your seventeen year old son. You have a right to be angry at me. In fact, I say that your behavior tonight has been downright saintly given the circumstances."

Bruce is taken back by the compliment. He realizes that Dick probably does understand. "It's not that I don't like you. But...you are a beautiful young man. Intelligent, if I am right to assume that French isn't the only other language you know."

Dick nods his yes.

"I don't see why you can't find someone more...age appropriate. You don't seem like the type to like younger men."

Dick chuckles, and he looks at his bowl of soup. "I've been all around the world, with countless men and women. All of them were shallow, sexual, and not at all fulfilling. You are right, though, I don't normally date younger than me. But older men are...boring. And only interested in fucking my brains out. They usually don't succeed," Dick muses cynically. Bruce feels a little hot at Dick's expression and feels more than a bit dirty. "But Damian was...different. When I saw him that night, I swear, I was going to give him a lap dance, take his money, and call his parents, well that means you," Dick corrects himself, "But he was so...cute. He put on this brave facade for his friends, and then demanded that I take him to a private room when I was done. I was going to refuse him, but he simply kept me on his lap until I agree. I normally call security in these cases, by the way," Dick informs Bruce.

Bruce stares, "Why didn't you?"

Dick thinks about that night, "I'm an experience fighter and a seventeen year old boy was able to hold me down. I guess I was curious."

Bruce makes a note to educate his son on how to keep a secret identity.

"So I brought him to a private room and he kisses me right off the bat," Dick smiles fondly at the memory, so much so, that Bruce cannot help but feel for him. "He was very forceful. I thought we were going to do it. Right then and there," Dick gossips shamelessly.

Bruce choose not to comment on that.

"But as we were kissing, he asks me what my name was. My real name. Against my better judgment, I told him. We talked for a bit, and before I knew it, I was giving him enough information for him to look me up and stalk me. Really, you people have too much money."

Bruce really hoped he wouldn't find out about that.

Dick continues, "So we started going on dates...and it was so nice to be with someone whose smart, and generous, and so sure of himself. That's why, even if you threaten me or ask me to break up with him, I can't. I'm happy, and I think Damian is, too," Dick persuades Bruce, who seems more than a bit shocked at the revelation.

Bruce stares at Dick for what seems to be forever, before sighing in defeat. "Damian has been a lot happier since he's been seeing you," Bruce admits. He isn't lying. Damian's has not gotten into trouble in forever, he's listening to directions more, and his training is at it's best. And he's smiling.

Bruce face becomes serious, "I'm still not comfortable with your profession, though."

Dick shrugs carelessly, "Most people wouldn't be. But I like stripping. It keeps my body tight."

Bruce choose that exact moment to drink his water. He refrains from talking to avoid choking.

"Of course, I could be convinced to choose a different career. I'm very flexible."

"You sure are!" Jason voice pops up from underneath the table. He is kicked by Bruce, whose conversation with Dick seems to prevent the three boys from taking their places on the table. Alfred, once again, has manage to take all their plates, finish or not, and present their main dish.

"Damian, Jason, Tim, you can come out now."

Damian looks nervously between his father and his boyfriend. Bruce gives him a nod, which allows Damian to let out a breath he hadn't realize he had been holding. Dick kisses him and Damian immediately returns at full force.

The dinner lasts peacefully until dessert. For some reason, everyone but Dick and Damian has to excuse themselves immediately, in which Dick just licks his spoon in faux innocence and Damian glares. He says his goodnight early, and when everything is set and done, Damian walks Dick to his bike.

"Sorry about my family," Damian confesses.

Dick refuses to accept his apology. "Your family was amazing. I'm happy you have so many people who care about you. You are perfect, Damian."

Damian smiles, because Dick always knows the best things to say. He pulls the man down for a kiss. "I wish I was taller."

"You're still young. You will be."

"I wish I was taller now."

"But then how will you fit into your Robin costume?" Dick jokes.

"I won't be Robin for long. One day, I'm going to be the next Batman."

Dick laughs, "Of course...maybe I should be your Talia."

Damian groans. "Please don't, I really don't want to think about my mother when I kiss you."

Dick agrees and kisses him again. They pull away when they finally needed to breath. "When will you tell them that I know about your little secret?"

"One step at a time," Damian instructs him. "Father nearly had a heart attack when I told him I was dating a stripper."

"Ex-stripper," Dick corrects, "When are you going to tell him I quit a year ago and am now a cop?"

"When he finds out that we've been together for two years instead of two months," Damian replies as he pulls Dick into another kiss.

"What if he never finds out?"

"Dick?"

"Yeah?"

"He's Batman."

* * *

><p>I really love Dick.<p>

See I can't say that anywhere but a comic con. People start to stare, otherwise.

I don't speak French so I used a translator. He's basically saying "What should I say? I suppose you want me to talk dirty. Jason?" I don't think it matters honestly, because anything in French sounds sexy. And if it is spoken by Dick Grayson, it is 10x the sexy. And if you're wondering why Damian doesn't just tell Bruce Dick is a cop, it's probably because he'll find out anyway and he feels it's best to get it out in the open. Also, he likes to fuck around.


End file.
